Tears of the Sun
by ShadowMasterX1
Summary: A Companion Fic to my fic, Harry Potter and the Green Flame Torch. It will give insight into the mind of one or two characters during Chapter 7: Last Respects.


Tears of the Sun

By The Shadow Master

_Dedicated to those who have lost people in a war.  Whether it be a Grandfather, Grandmother, Husband, Wife, Son, Daughter, Cousin, Friend, whoever it may be.  This is also dedicated to a friend, who has been like a sister to me for the past four years, Vicki Ditrith.  She is moved just yesterday, half the country of the __USA__ away.  I've known for a month.  All of us here will miss you, and I'm sure you'll miss us too.  Just remember one thing.  No one will ever forget you, especially me.  I love you, sis._

Dumbledore stared out of the window in his office, looking at the sunset.  It had been a year since the second war began.  Since Minister of Magic Cornelius Fudge had gotten on the Wizarding Wireless, telling the world that Voldemort had returned, and declaring a state of war between the Wizarding World and Voldemort's Death Eaters.

Dumbledore remembered the battle that made Fudge realize that Voldemort was back, that Voldemort was committing small murders all around the country, yet still keeping a low profile.  He remembered clear as day watching Harry Potter, sitting in his office with Cho Chang one afternoon, not wanting her to go to an Auror Training camp for the summer, having seen that something horrible was going to happen.

She went anyway, the argument in his office not solving anything, and they didn't talk to each other until five minutes before she left.  Harry made one last plea for her not to go, not to be put into harm's way.  She told him goodbye, but will see him again next year, that she would still be with him.

That was the last time he saw her healthy.  Was at the beginning of the path, not wanting her to go, wanting her to stay at Hogwarts, on his knees, begging her not to go.  Tears filling his eyes.  Dumbledore watched helplessly, not wanting to interfere, knowing the consequences of his actions.

But knowing what would happen didn't make the consequences of his actions that day any easier to face.  Knowing that one of your students was going to die, others injured or killed themselves, and the other was going to face a pain beyond pain that he had ever experienced, was not a pleasant thought.

He looked out this window, into the setting sun, remembering how Hermione Granger, one of Harry's friends, told him everything would be alright, that next year Cho would be with him, safe and sound.  Telling him that nothing bad is going to happen to her, and that Voldemort would never risk harm to himself.

She always could tell what he was thinking, always knew how to cheer him up, or how to keep him happy.  Everyone with two eyes could see that Harry Potter and Hermione Granger were in love, although they thoroughly denied it.  Cho had even seen it, but dismissed it as a deep friendship that stood through five years of hell and high water.

That was the day.  The exact moment in fact, when all hell broke loose.  Teachers were summoned to the Great Hall, and Professor McGonagall was briefing the teachers on a situation going on at the training camp that was over the mountain that blocked Hogsmeade from the rest of the world.

Harry knew what was going on, and he knew that he was not going to stand around and think of what was going on at that camp, knowing that his girlfriend was going to die, and not be there to help her.  As the teachers started to leave, he ran down the path like a bat out of hell, running faster than any of the teachers could stop.

Hermione was right on his heels, knowing that she was wrong, knowing what Harry saw was actually happening.  Dumbledore, watching from a cave, the cave from which Sirius hid in the previous year, could see everything that was going on.  Ron Weasley was running behind both of them, trying to catch up.

Tears fell down the old, wrinkled face of Professor Dumbledore, as he looked down, at Harry, Hermione, Ron, and Ginny as they walked towards the grave of Miss Chang, remembering those last few moments, being able to hear from his position up on the mountain, sniping Death Eaters who were attacking.

Dumbledore watched as Harry put two black roses on top of the gravestone of Cho Chang.  He remembered the beginning of the summer, watching under the disguise of an invisibility charm, as Mrs. Weasley hugged Harry with all of her strength, asking him how he was doing.  Harry ignored the question, trying to keep the tears of his pain from spilling out in front of everyone, not wanting to let them know how hurt he was.

Hermione walked up to him, and kissed him on the cheek again, just like she had done at the end of the year previous.  He let go of Mrs. Weasley, and grabbed onto Hermione, and nearly refused to let her go.  He didn't shed any tears, but Hermione felt pain passing away from him as she shed the tears for him, crying into his shoulder.

But Dumbledore knew it wasn't enough.  He knew that it was going to be the worst summer that Harry was ever going to face.  He knew of the reasons why everything was happening this way, and knew that it was going to a plan that was set before time was time, leading to the destruction of all evil.

But when he stood there, at the end of the year previous, and saw Harry as hurt and as lost as he had ever seen a man in that state, he didn't know how the prophecy could be true.  How any hope could be salvaged from the situation.  For the first time in a long time, Dumbledore felt that all was lost.

As Harry fell to his knees, weeping, Dumbledore felt the pain and anger flowing through the sixteen year old boy was if a dam broke and all the water that was being held back was gushing from behind it.  The pain of losing Cho, the anger at Voldemort and the Death Eaters for taking Cho away from Harry, they were all flowing out of him.

The visions of the summer were flashing before Dumbledore's eyes.  Throughout the entire summer, Dumbledore was looking through a crystal ball, watching Harry doing nothing but sit on a bench, holding his head, trying to ease the pain of Cho's death, but not able to let it go.

Dumbledore could look into his mind's eye, see it as clear as when he had seen it happen just weeks before.  Watching Harry's mind and soul drift away, making the Harry that everyone knew of fall away into nothing, making the body just a shell, nothing more than a visual representation of what he used to be.

Images flashed through the mind of Dumbledore as rapidly as raindrops fell during the storm that was raging outside.  Dumbledore saw Hermione trying to reach out to him, but the red-haired boy, Ron Weasley, stopping her.  He knew of the pain that Harry felt, he knew how long Harry had dealt with it.  He knew that this was the only way for him to heal.

"Sir?" Dumbledore turned to see Minerva McGonagall standing in the doorway, "We have the new field reports from the Mi-" She looked down, set a folder on his desk, and walked out of the room.

Dumbledore then walked over and sat in the chair behind his desk.  He buried his old, wrinkled face as deep as he could into his hands, and felt his pain spilling into them.  He felt the pain of the slow decay of time, and the stress of the ongoing war leaving his veins as he sat there and cried.  As he sat there, releasing those Tears of the Sun.

***

Outside, Harry and his friends started walking back to the castle, drenched in the soaking wetness of the rain.  Hermione looked up at the headmaster's window for a quick moment.  She would swear on her soul for years to come that for the first time, someone had seen the greatest sorcerer in the world cry.  

That was when she finally realized the meaning behind one of the stories that her daddy used to tell her when she was younger.  About how the greatest of men broke down.  How the greatest of men had to give themselves time to be alone and grieve.  When the people that were like lights of hope to the worlds that they protected, people who were like the sun shining brightly during the sunrise, broke down and let their pain out when no one was around, when they knew that they were all alone.  

That was when she remembered what her daddy had called those stories where the heroes were all alone, fighting their greatest evil, their own fears and pains.  He had always called them, Tears of the Sun.

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Hey everybody!  I hope you enjoyed this because I certainly enjoyed writing this for everyone who wanted more of an insight to what certain characters were thinking at these times.  Times where it seemed that all hope was lost, and nothing else mattered except the cause that they were fighting for.  I hope this gives you a better idea.  

Thank you!


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